0711 - X20+X26

I would like to think that I did not learn to take baby steps. I am convinced that as soon as I could put one foot in front of the other, I started running with no plan on ever sitting down again.

That has been my mindset for as long as I remember—always running to something, from something, just running. Sweating, feeling pleasure at times and exhaustion at others. Feeling lost and wanting to stop but not knowing how. When it is simple, I make it complicated so that I can run from it. When it is complicated, I simply make it worth running away from.

That is just me.

Always excited to fall in love, laced up and ready to leave it behind as soon as I am asked to sit down and make myself comfortable.

Everything is temporary with me.

I carried this constant pressure to hurry, to experience as much as I could before my wings were clipped.

No matter how deeply I felt, there was always a monitor in the background, counting down the clock, urging me to write a beautiful ending that left everyone with some sort of happiness.

Though I didn't always succeed, I did my best to end everything as beautifully as I started it.

So when something presents itself to me as something that could last forever, I don't dare look at it or even acknowledge it. And if, by accident, our eyes meet, I run to something that is easier to run away from.

"I don't want to be trapped forever."

That's how I explain it when confronted.

Love was a cage.

That's the theory. And if I am going to let myself get trapped by the adrenaline, it is best to fall into something that I can easily climb out of.

For the most part, people accepted it until they didn't.

For the most part, I loved it until I didn't.

One day, I just wanted to walk, and eventually wanted to sit down until I found myself yearning to lie down and close my eyes.

Both of them.